Hearts in Cups (55 page)

Brescom had gone off to
see that the camp was being properly reorganized and the confusion wrought by
the night's storm cleared up. He had been against hanging the guards but understood
and sympathized with Blaise's anger. They had been dealt three swift blows in a
very short amount of time and were no nearer to capturing the castle. Niall had
given them a month to take Lir and that month was now long past. They were
expected to march south and join with their supreme commander, but with Lir
untaken they had to stay where they were.

The earl walked back
through the camp feeling in the air the chill of autumn giving way to winter.
He had no wish to still be found sitting on Lir's doorstep in another two
month's time, when winter would lie cold and snow-laden upon them. Mentally he
cursed the situation, but his stolid face remained fixed. If Blaise had not
demanded a trade, if the witch were not behind the castle walls, if the castle
itself weren't so damn well built, if, if, if...

"My lord, a
message has arrived from the Duke of Mirvanovir." An orderly approached
his commanding officer deferentially.

Narrowing his eyes,
Brescom asked, "Is the message addressed solely to me, or to Lord Blaise
as well?"

"I believe it is
for both of you, sir," was the reply.

"Very well, bring
it to the duke's tent." Brescom stomped off to his fellow commander's tent
in a sour frame of mind.

The message, when
delivered and read, was just what Larth Brescom had feared. Niall wanted to
know when they would have the castle secured and be able to march south.
According to the letter, Niall's southernmost army, led by Lord Raney and
Niall's son, Lord Galen, were to begin the invasion of Pentarell at the end of
the week and Niall hoped that they would be joining him in Creon in a few
week's time. Niall's army had been halted on the eastern side of mountains
between the Duchy of Sandovar and the Duchy of Creon, where the Duke of
Mirvanovir had elected to take his army over the mountains and down through the
Earldom of Thurin to Creon. To do this he needed to use the access of the
Martyn Pass, and at present it was being held by Lord Aidan of Thurin and his
army. Niall was hoping to win through the pass shortly, and thus to lure
Branwilde's army to the southern plains of Carmathon. He was expecting the
combined northern army of the Inner Ward and Tuenth to take Gwenth, Creon's
capital, while Branwilde was away from it. Then they were to continue marching
south, cutting off Branwilde's chances for a northern retreat.

Blaise looked up in
disgust after rereading the letter. "Haven't you sent him word of what is
happening here?"

"Of course I've
sent dispatches to him. I don't think Lord Niall understands how difficult taking
this castle is," Brescom remarked irritably. Looking around at the
evidence of Blaise's temper, he pursed his lips in distaste.

"Well, what are we
going to do?" the younger man asked. "Can we leave enough men to
ensure that those inside the castle stay bottled up in there and march to
Gwenth as he demands?"

The earl shook his
head. "If the bulk of the army leaves, Lord Ian won't stay in the castle
for long. We have simply marched through the duchy so far; the countryside around
us is neither conquered nor secured. The majority of citizens are biding their
time, laying low and in hiding. The only way that Langstraad can be held is by
taking and holding its heart: Lir."

Blaise sighed. It had
been a damnable night and it seemed that their ill-luck had not yet run its
course. He ran a hand through his uncombed hair in frustration. "Then we
had better figure a way to take this bloody castle, and take it soon!"

Brescom looked dour.
"We shall have to return to conventional strategy it seems, and there is
no such thing as a quick siege. I'll draft out a letter to Lord Niall, giving
him a fuller picture of our situation here. He'll just have to give us more
time."

Blaise shrugged in
acceptance. "So it seems."

While Brescom left to find
and consult with the general staff, Blaise sat brooding in his tent. Rashara
might or might not have any suggestions or solutions for him, but, since
Brescom was writing to Niall, he might as well let her know of their situation.
Calling for men to come and restore order to his tent, Blaise composed a letter
to his mistress and mentor.

They had wakened in the
dusk to make love again before rising and dressing for dinner. In the dancing
light of torch and candle their eyes brightened and sparkled as they looked out
over the heads of those dining in the main hall. At the head table they sat
together with Idris and her children, along with Griswold and Owain, Edwinna
and Alaric. The men who had accompanied Ian on the rescue mission sat at the
first table below the head table; however, the huntsman Arain had been asked to
join them at the head table. He sat at the end, next to Owain, looking ill at
ease.

The mood was one of
rejoicing for the rescue of the lady and her children, but it was tempered,
both by the very real fact that the castle was still under siege and by the
recent death of Lord Alwyn, Idris' husband. The food was good, if not overly
plentiful, with roasted meats, fresh bread and cheese, and a variety of fruits
and vegetables. Edwinna looked as if each bite taken was an assessment of the
state of affairs in the kitchen, and as such, a reflection on her personally.

Still wan as she
recovered from her ordeal, Idris sat at Ian's side. Edwinna had found her more
suitable attire then the plain homespun traveling clothing she had been rescued
in. Ian recognized one of Holly's gowns; a silvery-green chemise with trailing
sleeve-cuffs under a dark green overdress of velvet. Far from begrudging her
the dress, Ian was impressed by how admirably it suited Idris. From his
position at the end of the table, Arain continued to surreptitiously observe
the lady. Her children were chatting noisily, happy to be once again in an
atmosphere that they knew and in which they felt safe. The two youngest sat
between their mother and Edwinna, but the eldest, Donal, had managed to find
himself a place next to Griswold and was wide-eyed, listening to the talk
between the masters of sword and horse. Beneath the table Ian held Angharad's
hand and tried not to look too foolishly happy.

Talk centered on the
rescue and each person's part in it. Griswold was interested in anything that
Idris might have observed while she was captive that he could use to their
advantage. Arain, when questioned, gave answers that were modest and to the
point. Idris was very interested in Angharad's arcane abilities. She asked
numerous questions and Ian noticed that she looked troubled by the answers she
received.

"What is it that
bothers you?" Ian whispered to Idris when everyone's attention had shifted
to Griswold's end of the table.

"The use of a
House Gift by Angharad," she replied softly. "I think that I should
talk to both of you, preferably alone and tonight."

Ian let his eyes range
over the guests at his table. "After dinner in Angharad's rooms?" he
asked.

"I will come after
putting my children to bed." At that point, Edwinna had a question and the
matter between them was dropped.

When dinner ended,
everyone disbursed to their beds or to their various posts. Idris and Edwinna
shepherded the children off to their rooms and Griswold and Owain left together
to check the night watch. Arain waited until Lady Idris had left the hall
before discreetly rejoining the other huntsmen.

Hand in hand, Ian and
Angharad strolled back to her rooms. As they walked he informed her that Idris
was anxious to speak with them and would come to Angharad's rooms shortly.
Surprised, Angharad asked what Lady Idris could possibly have to say to them.

"I'm not certain
exactly why, but she was agitated when you were recounting your part in using
your arcane powers," Ian said thoughtfully. "I am not as well
acquainted with Idris as I should like. Actually, my first real conversations
with her were on the ride back from Gwenth after our wedding."  He
shot a sidewise glance at her and received a faintly abashed smile in return.

Lifting her hand to his
lips as they continued to walk, he went on: "She was very good friends
with Holly's sister Gwyneira, who was fostered at Morna. About the time that
Gwyneira died, Idris was married to Alwyn Glendark, nephew to the old Earl of
Gresha.  Anyway, she and her husband used to regularly attend Hollin's
court and I know that my cousin both liked and admired her."

Upon reaching her
rooms, Angharad opened a door to the left of the front anteroom and led Ian
into a small sitting room. He recognized it as the room where he had last dined
alone with Holly, though it had been completely refurbished since then.
Crossing to the window, he gazed out wrapped in memory, not hearing Angharad's
movements behind him. Shedding the wool shawl she had draped over her shoulders
while perambulating the chilly castle corridors, Angharad rang a small bell to
summon Moira and alert her to the fact that Lady Idris was expected and was to
be brought in directly when she arrived. Only after Moira left did she turn and
call Ian's name gently. It brought him out of his reverie and he quickly came
away from the window where he had been standing and took her in his arms.

"Is everything all
right?" she asked anxiously.

He nodded; a bemused
expression in his eyes. "Oddly enough, everything really is fine."

A few minutes later a
tactful knock was heard at the door, and Idris entered. Sitting in the chair
that Ian ushered her to, Idris fixed the two of them with her steady, serious
eyes . "I feel it necessary to talk with you both this evening," she
said without preamble, "because I am alarmed by what you have told me
about Angharad's recent manifestation of arcane ability."

Angharad looked in
bewilderment at Ian and then back to Idris. "Have I done something wrong?
I was only trying to help deter Lord Brescom."

"You used the
House Gift of Creon?"

"Yes, I am a
d'Aurilac," she added with a touch of defiance.

Looking down at her
hands, Idris asked, "Were you ever properly keyed to the House Gift?"

Angharad grew more
uncertain. "Keyed?"

"Yes, the ceremony
that binds you to the House Gift and protects you from it."

"I never..."
the girl's voice faltered. "No, I did not go through the ceremony."

Ian cut in smoothly.
"Angharad was able to find the House Gift within herself and made use of
it to protect Lir."

Idris' disquieted gaze
grew more agitated. "Oh dear, that's what I was afraid you had done!
Please tell me, what did you do? And how did you do it?"

Responding to Idris'
patent distress, Angharad told her the brief history of her power wielding and,
with prompting, the after-effects of that experience. When she had finished her
recitation, Idris sat back with a sigh, a relieved expression finally settling
on her face. "You have been very fortunate, but I warn you, you must not
use the House Gift again."

"Why ever
not?" Angharad asked in perplexity.

"Because it will
kill you." At their horrified expressions, Idris continued more mildly,
"Remember, not only was my late uncle, Lord Percamber, an arcane adept, I
was also a close friend of both your late duchess, Hollin, and her sister. What
I know about the House Gift comes largely from what I learned over the years I
knew them.

"First, in order
to use the House Gifts, not only must you be a direct descendant of one of the
Great Houses, you must have inherited the potential to assume the House Gift.
Not everyone born into a Great House has the potential. Secondly, you must be
keyed to the House Gift during a strictly observed ritual. This is vitally
important because if you are not properly keyed, the House Gift drains your own
life-force. This is why you were so debilitated after using the power. I have
also heard that without the shielding that keying provides, the House Gift can
turn and destroy you as well." Blindly Angharad reached out and Ian took
her hand.

"What about
Blaise?" Ian inquired after quieting Angharad's fears with a reassuring
look.

"Blaise?" It was
Idris' turn to look confused. Ian enlightened her about Blaise's newly tried
powers and their results. Idris' brow clouded, "I knew nothing of this
while I was being held captive. If it is true, then I assume that he went
through the ritual in Tuenth after his father and brother died."

"You seem to know
much about the House Gift. Do you know what the ritual is to key me to the
House Gift, so that I might safely use my powers?" Angharad asked
hopefully.

Idris shook her head
discouragingly. "My knowledge is very limited really. I know that the
ritual is very specific and that it is different for each of the Great Houses.
The ritual is also a closely guarded secret, usually known only by one or two
of the senior House members. No, Lady Angharad, though I am impressed that you
were able to use the House Gift, as it is normally only wielded by the Head of
a House and it bespeaks a strong and innate talent with yourself.  I
cannot do more than to give you warning to use your House Gift again only at
your own peril!" With a resigned nod Angharad fell silent.